


Retrieval

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clones, Gen, Past Character Death, an ahsoka appearance that is not a true appearance, character driven, not about the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 11:26:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15290514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: Notes found at an old Rebel outpost have sent the Trio and company seeking something Fulcrum Prime hid away. That something is going to have issues.





	Retrieval

Leia looked around the crypt they were in, using her headlamps to illuminate the place thoroughly before she took another step.

"Only a Kel Dor would be willing to walk around openly in here," Han said. "You sure that those notes we found stashed in the old Dantooine base are legitimate?"

"Mon Mothma verified them, Han," Leia said, glad of the sealed suit as her instruments verified Han's assessment. The air was a mix of helium and other gases, none of which were oxygen or even carbon dioxide. "She said the handwriting was definitely Fulcrum Prime's, and once the code was broken by General Syndulla, it leads here."

"I wonder what she meant by 'enough time passing' though?" Luke asked, even as he moved further in, despite Chewbacca's wary growl at the odd way their lights refracted in the air. "The message indicated she would know, but she left nothing for anyone to follow in case… she didn't make it."

"That's why Mon sent us," Leia told him. "Fulcrum Prime vanished several years ago, but she was a primary intel source for us. Anything she secreted away would have to be a valuable asset. We need that, if we're going to capitalize on the Death Star's defeat over Yavin."

Artoo beeped then, rolling forward decidedly as Luke's headlamps and the droid's light fell on an odd object.

[Clone Wars era cryo pod,] Chewbacca growled, not that anyone but Han could fully understand it.

Han repeated it for him, as Leia lifted a brow and Luke turned that way for a moment, then moved towards the pod again, his hand down on Artoo's dome. "What's up, Artoo? I didn't catch that, sorry, I was listening to Han." 

[Said it was cryo pod. Is functional.]

"Why would a cryo pod be in a crypt that is designed to not be accessible by oxygen breathers," Leia mused, joining the droid at the side of the thing.

Han looked around it, and just barely noticed the niche above it, a slit in the solid rock that was… very precise, as if cut with a laser of some kind. He motioned Chewie over, pointing at it. "Hey, giant fluffball? Why don't you use your height to my advantage?" he asked, keeping his tone light because honestly this place was creeping him out.

Chewie grumbled at him, but came and looked in the small niche, then reached in. It was as smooth as it could be, and he reached the item stored there easily.

[Datapad. Tech is same as pod.]

"A Clone Wars datapad?" Luke asked, amused at Han's deliberately light tone over the comm connection, as he investigated the shape of the pod, looking for the controls. He didn't want to touch any of them, but knowing where they were, and what readouts he could maybe look over, would help. "Can you two get it to work? Or do you want to give it to Artoo?" 

[Give me,] Artoo said. 

"Luke, your droid has an attitude," Han said.

Chewie brought the pad over to the droid, making a quick little bark of questioning. [Jedi droid?]

Artoo scuffed back and forth on his pads, but he took the pad very carefully. [Can slice, if needed,] he answered instead, the first time he'd shown he understood Shryiwook clearly by evading the actual question.

"Of course Artoo has an attitude," Leia said. "He has to make up for the farmboy being too sweet to everyone," she said, doing her part to keep emotions level.

Luke finally saw a panel that was designed to move away, and surmised the controls were under it, but he really didn't want to touch it in a non-oxygen atmosphere. At least he'd found it, though. He turned as Leia made that comment, and protested. "Hey! I am not. And he came from you, I think _you're_ where he got it." 

Han nearly choked trying not to laugh at that. 

Chewbacca hadn't liked that answer, but he didn't contest it either; Artoo had proven to be a very strong ally since they met.

Artoo plugged into the datapad, and his concerns immediately ramped up as its security was quick to attack his intrusion into its files. The encryption, though, was very well known to him, and he recognized a certain pattern. His suspicions on who Fulcrum Prime actually was came to the forefront, and he plugged in a security key he had learned a very long time ago, opening a file that was the most recent.

He almost… almost… could not contain his shrill whistle at the information there, and he spun his optic to Luke. [Must take pod! Must!]

"Okay, buddy," Luke said, alarmed at Artoo's intensity, at that stifled half-sound before it. "We'll take it with us. I'll... try and take most of the weight, with the Force, to make it easier. Come over here and help me figure out where the power supply is, and if we need to get a supplemental pack in here before we do anything." 

"Artoo," Leia said, "what did you find? What's so important?"

[Has a power cell of its own,] Chewie told them, which Han repeated.

"You sure seem to know a lot about Clone War tech," Han said skeptically. Chewie just shrugged a shoulder at him.

[Designed to protect contents even in deep space, as long as needed,] Artoo supplied as that was in most of the technical manuals still available. He then looked at the princess. [Is a Jedi. Fulcrum Prime hid him here to keep safe. No access to place to help him then.]

"A _Jedi_?!" burst out of Luke's throat, though Artoo was looking at Leia, who... was every bit as shocked as he was. At least, by the look on her face. 

"Then we have to take him," Leia agreed, "but... help him with what, Artoo? Is he hurt, in there?" 

[Med file,] he confirmed. [Electrical damage. Psychic trauma likely. Will be worse when he wakes, because alone.] Artoo pressed close to the pod for a long minute. [Betrayed by someone he trusted, too.]

[They all were,] Chewie growled. [Few survived that first night to fight back.]

Han looked up at Chewie, then back at the others. "I think my partner here has opinions." He looked the pod over, moved to the end, and gave a triumphant shout, before he activated a repulsor that made it hover. "Doesn't make sense to give it its own power source and not have it able to move," he said before anyone could yell at his impulse.

"That's definitely helpful," Luke said, "but sheesh, Han, _warn_ us, maybe? I guess we should search for anything else, before we leave? Any more of those slots like the datapad was in?" 

Leia turned her light to look, sweeping it across the walls, then even down over the floor. 

"I don't see any," from Han overlapped Leia's "Not that I see."

[Datapad has all the information we need about him,] Artoo said, not pointing out that he did too, and the Jedi could fix his ability to say it. All he wanted was to get this pod to safety and the person awakened… but he knew why Fulcrum Prime had protected him and hidden him away.

There was no way she could have done differently, now that he was positive who she was.

Chewie went to take lead, just in case any more of the odd spider-like creatures got between them and the _Falcon_.

Luke stuck with Han, just in case the repulsor cut out or did anything else weird. Twenty-year-old tech could do some strange things, if it'd been running on its own all this time, who knew what it could do.

* * *

Once the pod was secure and Han had lifted off, making the jump to hyperspace, Leia had decreed they'd wait until they reached the medical frigates to tend the Jedi. 

That meant passing time, and Threepio was put to use translating for Chewie as questions came up.

"They used to say Fulcrum Prime might have been a Jedi once, but… I barely remember her," Leia said. "She was my father's friend. You knew Jedi, though, Chewie?"

[Yes. No need to talk about it,] he added, looking at Han. [Those days ended.]

Han leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest. "So when Kenobi came up to you...?" 

[Knew of him more than knowing him, but yes.] Chewie shrugged a shoulder. [He knew of me, because I worked with two Jedi he knew.]

"He was a general," Leia offered up at Han's patent disbelief and hurt, even if half the latter was because he hadn't known the secret.

"Way to let me make a fool in front of the fossil," Han grumbled.

[Cubs do that,] Chewie answered him.

Luke cracked up at that dry commentary, since Threepio _had_ translated it, and shook his head. "I'm not asking how old you are, if you think he's a cub, and I definitely don't want to know what you'd call me and Leia." 

Chewie laughed a little. [Cubs. All of you.]

"What if Fulcrum Prime was deceived?" Leia questioned. "Will you be able to tell, Chewie, since you just became our expert? We don't have any records, really, of the Jedi."

"That's a good point," Han said, growing a little more uneasy.

Artoo could not say anything, could not say anything to defend his Snips or his Pilot, and it made him want to buzz with frustration -- but he could not even do that. He had been trying to hack the lock put on him ever since he'd been back on Tatooine, but it was made to keep his secrets safe. 

He needed Fulcrum to be right, needed the not-Pilot to have _not_ been Pilot. Completely not have been, not just Pilot wrong-in-processor. 

[Do you know who Fulcrum Prime was? I may have heard of her, if she was a Jedi,] Chewie said, considering that question. 

"General Syndulla is very careful to only ever call her 'Fulcrum'," Leia said. "But… I think my father called her 'Ahsoka' one of the times I was hiding in his study."

[Huntress! She was strong, even as a cub.] Chewie shook his head. [Vanished before the war ended. Heard of a trial against her but know one of the Empire's people was involved, even then. All over the holonet. I did not believe. She had honor.]

"Who was she?" Luke asked, always curious to hear about anything of the Jedi, anything that might give him something to work towards, to try to do. He sometimes thought he heard Ben, still, but it was never very clear, and he needed... guidance, or at least ideas. "What was she like?" 

[Skywalker's student,] Chewie said, looking directly at Luke now. [Worked with her when we both wound up kidnapped. Young then, protecting even younger ones from Trandoshan hunters. Fierce, determined. Good huntress, strong friend to me despite short time together.]

"My -- my father's student?" Luke asked, stunned and unsure if he was glad to hear that his father had taught someone Chewie so obviously respected, or sad that she was another one lost to the Empire. That there was no way he could hear stories from her, to know more of who his father had been than Ben's few words. "You... did you know my father, then? Or only her?" 

He knew Trandoshans had some kind of hunting religion, that they sought the powerful and dangerous -- like Wookiees -- to kill... but why children, then? 

[Met him when we got to the Temple, to bring the younglings home to the Order,] Chewie answered. [Very happy to have her safe and back where he could protect her. She gave him credit for her survival, because of what he taught her. There was much… clan-feeling for them.] He then paused. [The Kel Dor was there that day. Also clan to her, somehow, like a father? May be how she knew of the old colony of theirs, to hide the pod.]

"That makes sense, I guess," Luke said. He was a little sad, because he'd hoped for more than that, but. It was what it was. "That if they were connected, she'd know a place like that to hide things." 

Han was just looking up at Chewie as more spilled out, absolutely stunned. Finally, Chewie reached over and ruffled his hair, and Han let go of the sense of betrayal; they both had pasts, and neither one had wanted to dwell on them.

"My partner's a war hero," he grumbled but he accepted the hair ruffle happily enough.

Luke smiled, watching the two of them, and pushed his wishing to know more about this woman -- or girl -- that had been his father's student aside. She'd been part of the Rebellion, a critically important part, was enough. "So... Artoo, who is it? We sort of didn't bother to ask, after you said he was a Jedi." 

Artoo, still holding onto the data pad, digesting it, catching things from an outside perspective via Snips' own words on it, turned his dome toward Luke.

[Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,] he said very slowly, the binary carefully spaced out.

"My word," Threepio said, understanding enough to know this had to have hit Master Luke with too many emotions.

"But Ben said Vader killed him," Luke protested, because -- he'd known his father was dead since he was old enough to ask about him. What his uncle had said, or what Ben had said, they came out to the same. His father was dead, had been since he was a tiny infant. He didn't even know if his father had ever seen him, held him. 

Anakin Skywalker had been dead all of his life. 

There was no way -- but Artoo wouldn't lie to him. Not about something like that. Not -- 

He stared at the pod, not understanding at all. Why would the Empire have kept one Jedi alive, but sealed in a cryo pod, and how had his father's own student found him and not brought him awake? Artoo had said he was hurt, but... 

"We probably cannot know the answers until he's awake, Luke," Leia said softly. "I know that my father trusted Fulcrum Prime with his life, and General Syndulla has credited her, several times, with the survival of the early Rebellion.

"We'll have our answers when we reach the Fleet."

"Listen to Leia, kid," Han said supportively. "If the Hero with No Fear is really in that can, you get your dad, and the Empire gets a swift kick up its exhaust ports."

Luke nodded, understanding that -- but then how Han had said it caught his attention. "The 'Hero with No Fear'?" he asked, the title unfamiliar and confusing -- maybe contradictory, even. 

Han kind of shrugged, and Chewie chuffed a little. "It's what he was called on the HoloNet back then," he said, reaching to run his hand up the back of his neck. "Can't believe that actually was Kenobi, though. He was way too old to be Kenobi of Kenobi-and-Skywalker, The Team."

Luke shrugged. "Tatooine is hard on people," he said, "but Leia sent for him as General Kenobi, so. On the _HoloNet_? Really? And 'The Team'?" 

Leia nodded. "My father told me that someone had to bring General Kenobi back to the fight, with the Death Star being revealed." 

[Even before I met Skywalker and the huntress, most knew of him and his teacher,] Chewie agreed. [Even young Wookiees pretended to be one or the other.]

"Yeah, fuzzball?" Han asked, amused, remembering full on fights at the orphanage over who got to be which one in their games.

[Brave beings, by all reports.]

"That -- wow," Luke said, shaking his head at the idea of his father having been that well known, of some young Wookiee pretending to be Crazy Old Ben. It didn't go together, in his head, not in any way that made sense. 

Leia reached to lay her hand over Luke's, trying to steady him, or ease him, something. It was easier to worry about what he had to be thinking than remember her father's loss.

* * *

The medical frigate was currently crawling with Mon Cal; there had been a running fight but Admiral Ackbar had finally evaded and managed to get his people to aid. The advent of a cryo pod was enough to evoke curiosity through many, but Chewie's presence gave them a wide berth to get to an observation bay with it.

Something so unusual brought the Admiral himself, and Leia felt a little worry. She knew that with Scarif having claimed many high-ranking Mon Cal, Ackbar more or less was their highest Fleet officer now.

"Admiral," she said as the pod was settled in place.

"Princess Organa," he greeted her, but his eyes remained on the pod. "There is not a clone in that, is there? They cannot be revived with a Jedi present." He glanced over at Luke pointedly.

Leia shook her head, looking at the Admiral with some concern. "No, the datapad found with the pod says -- well, it says that there is a Jedi Knight within, Admiral. Knight Anakin Skywalker, actually. 

"We don't know _what_ to think. Luke says he was told Darth Vader killed his father, but..." 

The Mon Cal blinked and then moved toward the pod. "I met him once, on my homeworld," he offered. "There was a Separatist plot to use our succession crisis, and he was one of the Jedi sent to protect the diplomat the Republic granted us." He inspected the pod, unsurprised it was one without a viewport. That had been a conscious choice, to protect the clones from bigotry, to give them a chance to be awakened.

"I think the concern, Admiral," Han said, "is that it could be a plot or trap. Except Artoo there has the datapad with all the information. The source appears to be an early Rebel called Fulcrum Prime?"

Ackbar looked at him. "Prime, now, Captain. Then… she was Fulcrum, with no others to aid her. It will be interesting to see what we can make of it once the pod is activated to awaken the man inside.

"I am fairly certain the Force can help you from there, Skywalker."

"I hope you're right, Admiral," Luke said, having had a couple of seconds to wrap his mind around the idea that _Admiral Ackbar_ had known his father, too, if only briefly. He wasn't so sure about the idea that the Force would be quite that helpful, but... he'd hope so. "I really do. Would -- no, you said you had only met him briefly." 

"I was in the forces that had to help General Fisto and Commander Tano," Ackbar agreed, able to follow that. "Good luck." He then inclined his head to Leia, as she was royalty, and left them, satisfied this was not a threat to his recovering people for the time being.

"That's a lot of words for a Mon Cal," Han said, wryly. 

Luke turned to look at him, his head tilting -- he still hadn't spent a lot of time with the Mon Cal, despite that they now pretty much all lived on one of the city-ships. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah. Usually pretty big on down to business," Han said. "Speaking of… who is hitting the cycle button?"

At that, Artoo zipped forward, plugged into a socket on the pod, and made the shield over the control panel fall. [Pilot!] he insisted, while making certain he was monitoring diagnostics.

Leia smiled at that, then stepped to the door. "I'll ask Em Bee Seven to keep a sensor on this room," she said.

"Thanks, Leia," Luke said, and moved over to do as his insistent astromech -- and why was Artoo having opinions about this? -- said. It... oh, it was strange, thinking that his father, unchanged for his entire life (and how old had his father been, when he went into this thing? Not old, he knew that, Garven had said he was young), was in this. He would be awake, soon. 

What would he be like? How would he react to -- to everything? To having a son that had grown up while he was in cryo-stasis? Grown up in the blink of an eye, to him. 

The controls were pretty easy to understand, even if Artoo hadn't decided to project the instructions right there for Luke to read. The astromech was remaining plugged in, and all but vibrating, even as Leia slipped back in to watch as the pod whirred to an active process.

Han shifted his body language, offering her a place to stand close if she wanted; this had to be horrible, as she had lost her father and now Luke was getting his back.

Luke looked back at Leia, feeling Han's concern -- and he was worried about her, too. This -- he didn't even know what to say, about this, after everything she'd lost. So he just looked back at the controls and flipped them from 'stasis' to 'awake'. After that, all he could do was wait. 

Leia didn't consciously choose to step into Han's protective space. It just happened, and she watched. She was full of emotions, but not in the least did she begrudge Luke this, if it was real.

* * *

He was cold, cold to his bones, and… there was pain. Pain like Dooku firing bolts at him, but how could that be? Why did he think Dooku was dead? 

Why was he so cold? Rex was always quick to find him a blanket after fighting Dooku.

He hurt. He was cold. And he was… no, the thing around him was folding away. There were sounds, sounds of medbay. Kix would not be there, but… Coric maybe? 

"Easy," a soft voice murmured, familiar but not, "you've been in cryo-stasis. Just hold on for a couple of seconds, we'll get you out of the tube and into a warm bed. You're injured, too; that can't be helping. Chewie, help me?" 

Why did that voice sound familiar? And -- cryo? What?

He tried to open his eyes, winced at the light, and shut them again. Medbay, but not his, cryo why? 

He did hurt, but he didn't want to be moved by someone else, he -- there was a rumble of Shryiwook, and Anakin relaxed a little. Wookiees were good allies, and safe. 

Artoo was keeping very silent, not daring to set his pilot off -- either of them -- when he couldn't share everything. 

Chewie scooped the human out of the tube, certain the face matched, even if the scent was too pained to confirm that way. He laid the Jedi on the table, and stepped back so Luke could place blankets to make up for the lack of fur.

"Luke, do you think I should get Em Bee Seven? His color is terrible," Leia said.

"Pretty sure that droid would be in here already if the monitors showed he was needed," Han said wryly, even as his eyes scoured the face. "He's a worrier, remember?" 

How was he in a _civilian_ medical facility? 

He had to be, between the Wookiee and and the number of voices, a woman's voice that sounded almost like Padmé in addition to the man that had first spoken, and the latest new voice, but that made no sense. 

Even if he had been hurt badly enough to need cryo, Rex wouldn't have let the pod out of his sight! He pulled the blankets close to him with the Force, aware he was shivering, trying to reason out what the _haran_ was going on... except his head hurt so badly that trying to remember anything was like trying to clutch broken glass. 

"Where?" he asked, hearing his voice as a rough, disused croak. 

"Safe," the first male voice said, quiet and lacking any accent to Anakin's ears. "You've been in cryo a very long time, so please just lay still, let us get you warm again, and give your body a chance to adapt."

[Dim the lights,] Chewie suggested.

"Right… lights at half," Han said, dropping the intensity to be useful.

A long time? No. _No_. 

Snips. Rex. Master. Padmé. There'd been -- there'd been something, something important. He'd asked -- 

His body jerked, without his intent, like he'd gotten hit with another bolt of electricity, as his attempt to remember hit... a ragged, damaged place in his mind. His right hand fisted in the blankets, fright for his men, his padawan (not your padawan, they took her away they made her leave), his Master, and his wife waking in his heart and veins. A long time -- no. 

"Fa … sir, you have to calm down. This is not going to help anyone," the quiet voice said. "I can't imagine what you're going through, and I know you are hurting, but… please? Give us a chance."

"Listen to Luke," the woman's voice said. "We will help you… and all of us understand having your world taken away from you," she added with a layer of almost-crippling grief under it.

The voice's name was definitely Luke, then. The familiar one, not accented -- not accented. Tatooine. He sounded like Tatooine. 

Well, anyone that could escaped that rock. No surprise there. 

The woman... he couldn't place her, except that she sounded like Padmé. Her tones weren't familiar, except the pain. 

He stretched, slightly, and his skin screamed with the leftover-pain of Force Lightning-injuries, making him hiss through his teeth. So he'd definitely been hit by Dooku -- but, no, again the knowledge that Dooku was dead, a flash of blue blade crossed red hit him. Then who... and when? 

He didn't remember any of the rest of it, and... he didn't think he was able to calm down. Snips. Master. Rex. Padmé. Appo. All his boys. He tried opening his eyes again, and it was at least vaguely bearable this time. His vision was blurry, and he blinked a few times. 

Sandy-blond hair and ghost eyes, skin pale like his despite the Tatooine accent. Luke. Wookiee -- Chewie, though that was certainly not his full name -- right there, big, solid wall of reassuring fur. The other voice, there, pale, dark hair cut short and messy. Anakin couldn't tell about the eyes from here. Droid -- 

" **Artoo**?!" 

[Protocols!] Artoo said quickly. [Senatorial and G.A.R. Jedi lock,] he managed to say even as it caused a small diode to pop-sizzle, but Anakin was his and had made those changes to his memory to keep him safe.

"You know Artoo? That explains why he's been so worried over all of this!" Luke said, relaxing some. "Buddy… no, you just said something about locks. Is Threepio --"

Artoo made a sad whistle, but he had rolled to where Anakin could get his flesh hand on the dome. [Hand functional?] he asked instead of dwelling on Threepio having to relearn everything.

Anakin growled, ignoring everything that wasn't Artoo, fear for Threepio at Artoo's unhappiness hitting him.

"Both of 'em are, even," he answered Artoo's question, trying to be amused, as he dragged the unlock code out of his own memory, at looked down at Artoo to rattle it off, quick and crisp and sharp, his hand dropped down to rest on Artoo. 

Artoo was here. He, at least, was safe. Though if he'd been locked -- that meant there was even more trouble than he'd thought. Somehow, Artoo had been away from him long enough to be locked. 

Why couldn't he remember anything? 

He'd have to let Artoo be his memory, for now. As soon as the best astromech in the galaxy woke back up again, anyway.

Luke had yelped when Artoo went into a sudden reboot loop, but Chewie reacted a bit more practically, finding a power cord to bring to the droid from the wall. That gave Luke something to focus on, helping clear the power port manually so that Artoo would have ample power.

"So… things just got even weirder," Han said in a dry tone. "So, your worshipfulness, going to stick around in here?"

Leia cut him a look, then sighed. "I should go check in, but… Luke?"

"If you need to go, I understand. I already dropped Wedge a message, and he's holding up," Luke said. 

Anakin looked towards the woman, and went still. She looked like Padmé, not just sounded like her, she _looked_ like his angel... didn't feel like any of the Handmaidens, didn't feel like Padmé, but. She looked so much like her, right down to the reluctant duty on her face. 

His head swum, and something else tried to come to the front of his mind, but wouldn't. Padmé, something about Padmé, what... 

Oh, that hurt, okay. He needed to stop fighting his brain. 

Artoo was here, Artoo would help as soon as he woke up. He wasn't alone. 

Where was Rex? No, Rex was -- ow, _again_? He looked at Luke, saying (with what he hoped was a mild tone, but he didn't really do that so well), "So how do you know _my_ copilot, there? And Artoo'll be fine as soon as he reintegrates his memories out of the distributed storage."

Luke gave a smile, and appreciated that gruffness. He was sort of protective over Artoo as well. "Leia sent him on a mission, and I met him on my homeworld," Luke said, as the Force and his own sense of worry warned him. "He's saved my life a few times since then, and we look after each other."

Han stepped out with Leia, getting an arched eyebrow, but he tipped his head to the fact Chewie was staying, and that won him a reprieve from her sharp tongue. If he went with her, maybe he could figure out if there was a window that was good for him to go pay off his deathmark.

Chewie watched the pair leave, hoping his cub didn't make the princess too mad this time, and focused back on the Jedi. The scar and gloved hand matched his memories, and the scent was settling toward his memories. He settled back, wary, because Luke was part of Han's family now, and that mattered.

"Well, he's been saving my life since I was a kid," Anakin said, watching Luke warily and thoughtful. "So I'm not surprised. Leia -- that's the woman that left? Or someone else?" 

How had Artoo been away from him, and if he was somehow... lost... from Padmé? Artoo would get back to her any way he could, locks or not! 

"Yeah. She's the best!" Luke smiled happily. "Artoo's mission for her led to meeting and rescuing her, and Han stuck around with Chewie… good thing for all of us, big guy!"

Chewie chuffed a little at him. [Right thing.]

"Threepio was with Artoo," Luke added, "but he mostly helps Leia, while Artoo helps me, since I pilot."

"Well, yeah," Anakin agreed, worried for the droid he'd built, how he too, could be away from Padmé. "Of course Artoo'd be with a pilot. Threepio, though... who is she? Leia, I mean." 

Luke couldn't hide the bloom of tragedy in his emotions, and the protectiveness for the woman. "She's the princess of Alderaan, highest ranking survivor, actually, and she's one of the leaders I answer to here," Luke said. "Command often pairs me with her, since we work well together."

Chewie made a warning noise, that they were treading close to things that might be upsetting for the Jedi, because of the lapse of time.

"...'survivor'?" Anakin asked, his blood running chill and slow. Had the Seps managed to create another of the weapons like the one on Maridun? Or something worse? 

"No... he's right. Sorry, I don't know your name yet," he said apologetically to the Wookiee, then frowned, his eyes looking searchingly over the big Wookiee again. "Or... do I?" 

[Chewbacca,] he said for himself, and Luke repeated the Basic version. [Helped your tiny Huntress,] he added, miming 'little' and then 'horns'.

"Chewie said he'd met you once," Luke said. "Something with Trandoshans and a student?" he said helpfully.

Anakin nodded once, firmly. "Yeah, I remember that. Hello, Chewbacca. Sorry, it took me a minute. Snips really thinks a whole world of you; she was pretty impressed. Thank you, again." 

He looked at Luke, and nodded. "My padawan got herself kidnapped along with a bunch of younglings the Trandoshans had been kidnapping and turning out on a moon to be hunted. She and Chewbacca and some of the kids managed to pull a plan together, and escape. Thank the Force." 

He reached up, rubbing at his throat. It ached, now, even though his voice was starting to sound a little better. 

Luke stood and moved to get a water bottle for him. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking." He brought it back and helped shift the bed for easier drinking. "Padawan… that's another word for student?" he asked even as Anakin saw the swing of a very familiar cylinder on the man's belt.

"Yeah," Anakin had started to say, but then the sight of his lightsaber on the stranger's hip sent alarm singing through him. He hadn't been worried about it, able to hear the reassuring hum of the crystal -- but that it was actually being _carried_ by someone else, a stranger, lit adrenaline in his veins. He didn't just grab for it, with his hand or the Force, because he didn't want to get slammed into the bed by Chewbacca, but -- 

"I think you've got something of mine," he pointed out, his left hand frozen on the bottle, his eyes now fixed on Luke's. 

Luke's face twisted up in confusion, then realization hit, and he immediately reached to his belt. "Oh! Right. This is yours," he said, releasing the hook and shifting to hand it right over, full of trust and brightness. "I kind of forget it is there sometimes, but you… you can do so much more good with it than I ever could."

Anakin raised one eyebrow, not understanding that comment _at all_ , but he reached out with his right hand and took his saber back. It felt... slightly wrong, somehow, but he'd figure out what had happened with it later. Right now, he had it back, it wasn't with a stranger, and there hadn't, apparently, been any intent to keep it from him. 

He still sounded like Tatooine, but where the hell on Tatooine could this kid have grown up that he was still that _open_ , that -- 

\-- unshielded. He could feel a bright, wild presence in the Force, now that Luke was closer, and that was as baffling as that the kid had had his lightsaber. "Thank you. And for the water." 

He tucked the saber next to him, and took several drinks for his parched and deeply unhappy throat. 

"No problem at all," Luke said, before looking down at Artoo as one of the reboot noises sounded like it was on a true cycle for the little droid to wake up. He stepped back, as Artoo's dome spun around once and far more utility arms popped open than he'd known about before settling back into place.

[Jedi droid,] Chewie said, settling in a chair with his legs flung out in front of him. 

"Hey, Artoo," Anakin said, having gotten around a good part of the water bottle while Artoo was finishing his startup. He traded the bottle off into his right hand, and put his left hand down for his best, oldest friend except Threepio. "Everything work the way we intended it to?" 

[Yes! I can access it all and say it too!] Artoo said, stretching up into that hand on his dome. [Have datapad for you. Explains some. I know more. All very bad, ugly, wrong.] He gave a low whistle of regret. [Tried our best, but things went wrong. Bad betrayal.]

Chewie, more versed in Binary than he let on usually, was very curious about that, and shifted to listen to more.

Anakin felt absolute cold sweep through him, as Artoo's words warned him of something terrible, and his fingers slid to hold on a little more. "I -- okay, buddy. These people... they good people? Taking care of you all right?" 

[Yes. All good. Pilot is nice, but kind of shiny,] Artoo said. [Getting better.]

Chewie had to laugh at that, while Luke translated in his head and then looked at them in puzzled confusion.

"Shiny?"

Anakin laughed, soft, though the confusion unsettled him -- but then again, this was a kid from Tatooine. "Sort of, Artoo?" he asked, amused, then looked at Luke. 

"It's what we call the new _vod'e_ from Kamino. The one that are so new their armor doesn't have any damage yet."

Chewie carefully didn't react to that; he had smelled some of the old clones on the base, and heard they were not all part of The Betrayal.

"Huh. Okay. I guess I deserve that. Being out here is a lot different than farming," Luke said, even as he tried not to fall into memories of Beru and Owen. "The only reason they gave me the Rogue Squadron was because Wedge and I were the only two to make it back, and he refused," he added with a sigh.

Anakin cocked his head, watching Luke curiously, and looked from him to the Wookiee, because there was something _really_ strange there. Then... "Farming?" he asked, curious. He knew that accent was Tatooine, and the only farming there... "Moisture farming?" 

"Yeah," Luke said, shrugging. "I can judge the grade of water almost on sight," he added, not fully jokingly. "Not much else to do on my world, unless you want to race speeders and shoot womp rats." 

"No, not on most of the planet," Anakin agreed, dry as dust under the suns. Luke looked at him shyly for that, and gave a bit of a smile.

"You would know that, I guess," he said, before he ducked his face down.

Artoo made a wobbling whistle. [Pilots are connected,] he told Anakin.

"What, Artoo?" Anakin asked, then shook his head. "No -- that's not -- I don't think that's where we need to start. Should we start with the datapad you said you had, or...?" 

Artoo opened a very narrow compartment of his body and plucked the datapad out of it. [How you came to be in the crypt is in here, with a message.] He handed it up to Anakin.

"We found you in a crypt on an abandoned Kel Dor colony," Luke said, to explain more of that.

"A... Kel Dor colony?" Anakin shook his head, trying to make sense of that. But he took the datapad, and flicked the switch to bring it active and check out what Artoo had already prepped on it. 

"Hey Skyguy," Snips said to him from the screen. "If you're getting this message, I either got in over my head, or just had to send someone else. They better take good kriffing care of you." 

There were subtle changes in her face, another growth spurt maybe, and her eyes… her eyes were heavy with emotion.

"Working theory is that you weren't falling in line with what the Sith-Spit wanted. Somehow, you're cloned, but … you can't clone memories and experiences," Snips said. "So the Sith-Spit hid you, and made a psychic link to the clone. At least, that's what I am thinking, based on stuff I have learned since I started looking for the real you. I can only hope it broke whatever poodoo he had actually put in your head.

"There's a history file on here, everything I pieced together after I escaped Mandalore. Rex found a lot of this out for me after the endgame," Snips told him. "I pieced together some of just because… the you I was dealing with wasn't quite right. I don't think the Sith-Spit realized I was the person you were meeting before he switched you out.

"You're not going to like the history lesson. I promise that I am going to do everything I can to fix things… but you're too hurt to help me right now. That's why I'm tucking you away on this old colony. Senator Organa needs me, he says, and Rex thinks I can make a difference.

"I love you, Skyguy. Always did. I can't give you back the months I was gone, but know this? If I hadn't left, the Sith-Spit would have figured out how to kill me."

Anakin's heart pounded at seeing his padawan. He missed her so much, he'd missed her for so long... he'd missed a growth spurt, or two. But that was her voice, that nickname. Everything he loved about his padawan, his Snips. 

Sith-Spit -- that wasn't one of her insults for Dooku. That was something new. Who did she mean? Who did she think -- wait, **what**? 

Cloned? 

No, he was himself. He was -- oh. Okay. Maybe that was why his head kept faintly spinning, hurting. A link to a clone, his memories, fed to someone _else_? Since his padawan had started looking for the 'real him'. 

A history file from his padawan's point of view. That was going to be interest -- Mandalore. 

Mandalore, Ahsoka, Rex. Yes. He'd asked her to come, because they needed more help. Yes. He remembered that, now, clear and painfully sharp. Holding his padawan again, just for a minute, so grateful he'd found her. 

'After the endgame'. And Artoo had said they were betrayed. He pulled one of the blankets around him tighter with the Force, hiding from that thought for at least a moment, still so cold. Cryo, they'd said, and yeah, the pod was right there. That was how someone had kept his mind alive, but sent a copy, someone subtly wrong, to meet his padawan again? 

Of course she'd known. How could she not? 

...how had his Master not, if he'd been with him? Anakin jerked away from that thought, that possibility, and took a breath. 

Too hurt to help her? The kriff? He wasn't that badly hurt now, had they kept him asleep? No, he still ached from the lightning. 

"I love you too, little one," he said, soft, to the datapad, because he hadn't told her often enough, hadn't let her know how much she meant to him. Not until she was gone, and he'd felt the hold in his life. 

The thought of his padawan dead made a hot fury flood him, almost enough to push the cold away. 

Senator Organa. One of his angel's friends, and Obi-Wan's, too. A good man, Anakin thought, though he was wary of him.

Luke had kept himself very quiet, like Chewie, as the young woman spoke to Anakin. There was true affection, a fierce protective spirit… and this person he'd never known had mattered to his father. He could hear and see it. Would that bode well for the actual truth coming out, that Anakin was his father? 

He didn't even want to think about what it was going to be like to say he had no idea who his mother was, when he could see how all of the revelations were hitting Anakin.

[Snips became Fulcrum. Saw her once, on ship I was on,] Artoo said. [Big, tall horns.] He then bumped the bed a little. [History is _bad_. She saw part I did not. I saw part she did not. Together, whole story, or close?]

"Yeah," Anakin said, jerked back to reality instead of the image of his padawan's changed face, the shimmering in her eyes, "okay, Artoo. I -- wait, _tall_ montals? She -- those don't -- 

"Artoo? How long has it been?" 

He didn't want to know. He was terrified to know. Terrified not to. 

[Almost twenty standard years since I was locked,] Artoo said sadly. [I did not know about you!] he added in protest, making it clear he would have done something before now.

"Do we need to stop?" Luke asked softly at the feelings in the air.

"Twenty..." Anakin breathed the word, shocked, and the Force rippled with his want to disbelieve -- but Artoo would never lie to him. He'd been locked in a cryo pod, unaware of the galaxy, for -- for almost his entire _life_ 's worth of time? 

No, no, that -- how -- 

And... only Snips had known? His padawan was the only one that had realized he'd been replaced by some created thing that -- 

He jerked his brain to a stop, because that came too close to calling his _vod'e_ things, and that was _never_ okay. They were clones, and they were the most amazing, wonderful, generous people he'd ever gotten to encounter. By some -- some kind of Sith creation, that would work. Something that deliberately tapped into his presence to pretend to be him, like a Clawdite but worse, a -- 

Padmé would have known, she couldn't have been fooled by anyone for long, and a new round of black, dark terror crawled up into his chest. Padmé -- and Artoo hadn't been with her -- and -- 

The kid had said something, but he only half-heard it. It wasn't important, not... 

"Artoo?" he asked, knowing he was pleading and not caring, looking down at his old friend. "Padmé?" 

[I failed my Senator,] Artoo said in the softest beeps Luke had ever heard from him. [Tried to save her. Stupid Jedi, me, Threepio? Med droid said no reason to fail. But she did.]

Luke unconsciously stiffened and almost backed away as he felt the emotions grow more wild, more dangerous… but this was his father. Somehow, he had to be the support his father needed!

Failed her? Anakin shook his head, because he didn't believe Artoo ever could -- and then Artoo said that, that he'd tried to save her, that a med droid had... what? He was confused, but he knew, down to his bones, that 'fail' meant 'dead', that he'd lost his angel, his reason, his everything, while he was stuck in stasis, and all he could taste was heat off the sands and blood and lightsaber ozone. 

His angel. He'd -- he hadn't been there, he'd -- 

"Artoo, I need you up here," he said, barely getting the words out, and picked him up with the Force as he slid back enough to be able to balance him on the bed, wrapping himself around the cool smooth weight of Artoo's chassis before he destroyed something because he couldn't stand what he was feeling. 

He couldn't hurt Artoo, and that would keep everything else safe. 

Luke's eyes widened at how effortlessly Anakin did that lift and careful placement, before he looked over at Chewie standing up. Chewie tipped his head to the door, and Luke reluctantly agreed, slipping out of the room with his friend so Anakin and Artoo had some privacy.

[Here. Your friend.] Artoo whirred very quietly, gentle electromagnetic waves emerging to simulate petting his pilot. [Not alone. Never alone. I stay.]

"My Artoo," Anakin agreed, clinging to him as tightly as he could, burying his face against the dome, the waves a soft constant reminder to hold on, to keep his self-control, to not -- 

\-- things shook in response to the pounding of his heart, the scream locked in the back of his throat trying to escape, but he had Artoo right there. She was gone. 

His wife, his queen, his Senator his love his heart was _gone_ , and only having Artoo right there was keeping him still. Keeping him from -- 

He needed to know more. "How, Artoo? What happened?"

[If you changed before Mandalore, everything makes more sense,] Artoo said, deciding how to tackle this. [Was good enough to fool me, thought you had a bad processor, but no sleep does that to you,] he continued. [Didn't finish Mandalore. Crisis on Coruscant, go there. Bad things, almost non-stop.]

Artoo focused on the personal. [Senator told you something secret. Well, not-you. Things nice first day. Bad vision that night. More troubles, over few days. Not-you fought with her. Not-you was always angry and afraid. Then betrayal happened, and only got worse. Senator followed not-you to place, tried to argue. Stupid Jedi showed self, and not-you attacked her. But that did not damage her enough to end her.]

"...okay, I think I'm missing a lot, still," Anakin said, having listened to Artoo intently, as much as he could with the way he wanted to just scream and not stop. The not-him had. Had _hurt_ her? Attacked her? **Force**! "But... yeah, enough time without sleep is enough to slag my brain. At least you noticed." 

How could Padmé not know, how could she miss that he wasn't even himself? How -- 

Something swam up out of the Force, like a vision, but... Padmé, against one of the giant columns of the Senate building, looking up at him terrified and overjoyed, 'Ani, Ani I'm pregnant.' 

Pregnant. 

She. "Ar-Artoo? The secret... she was pregnant? I -- it's like I was there, but... I know I can't have been."

He hadn't been on Coruscant in months. 

Decades. 

[You skipped ahead!] Artoo said, taking a page from Snips and trying for humor in his binary. [Yes. Secret. Vision about losing her, baby… was two babies, but did not know at first.] Artoo then struggled with a long piece of his own memory. [Not-you had… struggle? With that, with Sith plans, with Jedi things. Have recording. Maybe Snips right, and not-you had some of you arguing with what Sith made of him?]

Anakin snorted amusement at that so-his-padawan scolding tone in Artoo's binary, and then listened. 

"Twins?" he asked, shocked. Needing to focus, to understand, was helping beat back the sheer chaos in his head, the horror and grief and rage. "That... wow. 

"And as to the not-me... if there was _anything_ of me, he'd kriffing **better** have struggled with what the Sith wanted. Just -- no." 

[If I play, help maybe? To see what he thinks like?] Artoo asked. [Lots of buggy processor issues.]

"It might," Anakin agreed, not at all sure that he cared about the thing that had taken over his life, but. It was a thought. He rested his head on Artoo's dome, taking slow breaths as he tried to wrangle the rest of his mind back into something that at least pretended sanity. He looked up -- 

"Huh. They left. I didn't notice." 

[Just outside. Privacy, though.] Artoo brought up that very strange memory that was Anakin talking out everything after the opera, a monologue Artoo had not understood at all. After it played, with all of its talk of what the Order was doing and what Palpatine wanted, he played the other disturbing argument, the one that was Anakin yelling and pleading at himself on the trip to Mustafar.

He let them play out, pushed up against his pilot, and then let silence fall so Anakin could think.

Anakin, though, wasn't really at a thinking place. Artoo had said 'betrayal', and so he'd thought he'd been braced for it -- 

\-- but his own voice rambling about Palpatine and the Council, making it clear that the Chancellor had always been the Sith, that he. That he had engineered this entire war. That had been more than he'd been ready for, and his breath came in tiny, short gasps as he clung all over again to Artoo. 

"...the _Chancellor_ , Artoo?" he asked, just to be sure. 

[Nasty bad filthy Sith traitor,] Artoo confirmed. [Think Senator suspected. Was fighting against his power at the end.] Artoo sent more waves of energy over his pilot. [Do not understand operating by one program, while running a bigger, worse one under it.] 

"I don't either, buddy," Anakin agreed, shaken, and breathed out a slow sigh, trying to wrap his head around the idea that his friend, his mentor, the one person other than his angel that he really trusted, had -- 

\-- had had him copied and ambushed and stuffed in a cryo-pod to use his memories to keep a puppet-version of him around and dancing to his tune. 

"I want to scrub my entire _skin_ off," he told Artoo. 

[No water rations? Mon Cal ships have best recyclers!] Artoo said helpfully. [But human plating is hard to replace.] He reached out with his clasper to hold Anakin's arm briefly. [My pilot… other pilot needs me too, though. Maybe Alliance can find us an ARC?]

Anakin actually laughed, shaking his head at Artoo's wry commentary, and pushed into the grip on his arm. "Yeah, buddy. Your pilot." Then he blinked at him a couple of times. "You think your shiny could keep up with you and me?" 

Artoo got a sly tone to his beeps, tipping a little to bring his dome to Anakin's forehead. [Did not figure it out? Shiny is yours. Other reproduction on board too, but they don't know it.]

"Mine?" Anakin asked, stunned, because no, he really hadn't. That wasn't anything he'd gotten close to yet. He was stuck twenty years ago, on the Chancellor being the traitor, the Sith in the Republic that was all ghosts and rumors. On that Padmé had been pregnant, and his copy had hurt her. 

"...I missed my kids' entire _lives_..." 

[Can protect them now.] Artoo was firm on that. [Stupid Jedi failed to teach much. Pilot great in ship, not so much with lightsaber and can't move things. Other one… missing Force? But she is strong like Senator.]

"Yeah," Anakin said, making himself focus on that, on the idea that he could take care of them, keep them safe. He hadn't been there for anything they'd needed a parent for... but he could take care of them now. "Okay." 

He wasn't so sure any child of his could be missing the Force, but Artoo would have noticed. "...which Jedi are we calling 'stupid Jedi' today, Artoo? And... seriously, he can't?" 

[Stupid Jedi sneaked to Mustafar with Senator, fought not-you, took Senator to medical.] Artoo pressed close. [Took little pilot away to hide but did not teach him. Did not unlock me when found him for Princess.] He then pressed close to Anakin again. [Died, protecting Pilot. Pilot sometimes calls his name, like is here.]

"Fought the not-me, and survived?" Anakin asked, his fingers brushing lightly on Artoo's side. "That would almost have to be... Obi-Wan? My Master?" 

The idea that his Master was really dead, that he was never going to hear that damned, beloved Coruscanti accent again felt like a vibro-knife sliding under his ribs. Not, quite, the galaxy-shattering pain of losing Padmé, not after the faked death that had nearly set him to burning the galaxy to ash, but... 

[Yes.] Artoo thrummed softly. [Was kind to Pilot,] he conceded. [Found Chewbacca, so Pilot would have strong protector?] he theorized.

"He couldn't do much better than a Wookiee," Anakin had to admit, curling himself around the grief of the loss -- it, at least, was a familiar one. "And... he'd _better_ have been good to my kid. How can Luke not know the Force, though, if Obi-Wan was with him? Why..." 

That didn't make sense. 

[Stupid Jedi mostly a stranger to him? Did not know right name,] Artoo explained. [Then together short time.]

"Then... where was he, Artoo?" Anakin asked, concerned for whole new reasons, now. Artoo got very quiet, not really wanting to answer that. He knew he had to. His pilot, his friend, needed that answer.

[Shiny pilot grew up at same place we left from, for war start.]

"Mom's husband?" Anakin asked, "and her stepson? Um, Owen? Yeah. That was his name. Did he marry that girl? Beru?" 

They'd been good people, he told himself firmly, even as the thought of his son growing up on that karking planet sparked heat in his veins. Good people, and they'd loved Mom. They'd been free people, and reasonably secure, it'd looked like. It was different than having been in a city. 

And Tatooine was isolated, distant, unlikely to have come to the attention of any other powers. 

[Man and woman, yes, names are right. Not the old one.] Artoo gave a sad sound. [My mission led Imps there. Because I had plans for Death Star and had been sent for Stupid Jedi. Princess was captured.]

"Death Star?" Anakin asked, his skin crawling at the name. 

What had happened to Cliegg, he wondered, but it was more distant. "Also, Imps?" 

[Imperials. Stormtroopers,] Artoo answered, spelling it out in binary before pronouncing the binary word, so Anakin understood. [And -- ] He projected the Death Star for his pilot, adding the _Resolute_ for size, before showing the weakness. [Shiny pilot made the killing shot.]

"Sweet _storms_ , Artoo!" Anakin exclaimed, staring at the immense, horrifying thing. That looked like a focusing dish for an energy array, but... "I -- what -- why would anyone.... what _is_ that thing?" 

Imperials. So... somehow, the Republic had died with his Angel, and an Empire had taken its place. A new Sith Empire... of course that was what he'd wanted. 

[Planet killer, Pilot. Destroyed Alderaan.] Artoo leaned into him, because he'd lived near or on that world a long time too. [Princess's home, parents.] 

"Princess?" Anakin asked, startled. "Nubian royalty isn't an inherited title... and 'Alderaan'?" 

He held his friend for that leaning, aware it meant Artoo was upset, hand petting him gently. Of course someone else had raised his daughter, just like his Mother's stepson had raised his son, but... it was so strange, to think of anyone else with a daughter of Padmé's. 

[Princess is other reproduction unit. But raised by Alderaan as child of rulers,] Artoo offered. [Does not know about Shiny Pilot. Or him about her.]

"Yeah, something about how you said the rest of it clued me in to that," Anakin agreed, and then blinked a couple of times. "Master Obi-Wan's friend, Senator Organa? And his wife? They raised her?" 

Huh. That... wasn't so bad. They'd been Padmé's friends, too. 

[Yes. Helped.] Artoo then whined some. [Wiped Threepio. Know he talks too much but… had to start all over.]

"Oh... oh, _Artoo_ ," Anakin whispered, shocked and hurting, and he hugged his friend again. "I'm so sorry, buddy. I -- I should've worked harder on figuring out how to protect him, I _know_ how people are, I just -- " 

[NO! Not your fault. BUSY.] Artoo popped his electro-prod out as a threat. [Protecting so many. NOT YOUR FAULT.]

In the corridor, Luke looked at Chewie as it was obvious that Artoo was chewing the Jedi out, then shrugged.

"Okay, okay!" Anakin yelped, ducking back away from the electro-prod and nearly falling off the medical berth, "sheesh, Artoo, haven't I been electrocuted enough?" 

[Used to it, aren't you?] he asked, putting it away and being playful. [Threepio came back much like he was. Just does not remember. Can't access where his back ups are hidden; on capital world and Naboo.]

Anakin relaxed as Artoo put the prod away, and took a slow breath. "Well... maybe I can help with that. Not like he would have been able to help you, even if you'd gotten him his backups. But. We'll see. Along with everything _else_ we've apparently got to deal with." 

[Teach Shiny Pilot, go whoosh whoosh sword at not-you, push Chancellor-Emperor into a firepit?] Artoo asked.

Laughter burst out of his throat before he had any chance of dragging it back, and it was a little hysterical, but it -- it helped, and he knew perfectly well that that was exactly what Artoo had wanted. It took a while before he could quit laughing, and he nodded as he did. "...yeah, basically. I mean, I don't think it's that simple, but I'll take that for the general shape of things." 

Luke heard that laughter and felt a little relief, before he ducked his head back around the door frame. "Safe to come in?" he asked. Artoo spun his dome around and looked at him, then back to Anakin.

"Yeah," Anakin agreed, looking back at -- at his son. At Luke. "Come on back in. Sorry... not exactly the greatest introduction we could have had. But I think Artoo's managed to tell me enough of the stuff that's really going to send me into fits like that.

"And if I'm wrong about that, Artoo, try and save it for at least a few hours?"

[Mostly done, I think. Have Snips' datapad for later.] Artoo then wobbled. [Put down again?]

Luke moved to help lift Artoo, never the easiest, but a habit from the couple of times they had been on rocky terrain.

"Yeah," Anakin said, and waved Luke off with a flick of a smile, lifting Artoo and putting him gently back down on the decking. "There, buddy. I'd say sorry, but once of you threatening to fry more of my brain is enough on any given day.

"Hi," he said, looking at his son -- yeah, now that Artoo said it, he could see his jaw and eyes in Luke, and his hair was the going-dark blond he remembered from about his second year off-Tatooine. "Artoo tells me you... you're my son." 

Luke brightened like the twin suns and smiled. "Yes. You're my father, impossible as that seems to me. Uncle Owen had told me one thing… to protect me… and then Ben told me what he thought was the truth, but…'Snips'? Her version seems to be the most truth. Though I'm still confused about Ben telling me Vader murdered my father.

"I just can't ask him about it." Luke sat down in the chair, watching his father avidly.

Kriff, he remembered when he'd been able to smile like that, when he hadn't learned to shove away what he felt when he was around friends, when he'd let himself just _be_ , and he decided, with the finality of punching a hyperspace course, that he'd teach Luke differently. 

Love might be against the Code, but the Code was wrong, so many times over. What the Order had done for so long was wrong. 

He wasn't going to have Luke exposed to that poison, not if he could help it. "Your uncle... I didn't really know him, but he felt like a good man. He would have done his best to keep you safe, for -- for my mother's sake. 

"And -- Ben? Obi-Wan?" he got a moment's nod, and sighed, heavily, considering what Artoo had told him and what he knew about his Master. "That's... _wow_ , that's a 'certain point of view' truth if I **ever** heard one from him. 

"If Vader is actually my clone, anyway, which from Snips and Artoo I'm pretty sure he is." Artoo warbled uncertainly, and Anakin shrugged. "If he is, if my Master saw him attack your mother... he would have told himself I was dead and the Sith had taken my place until he believed it." 

Luke considered that, decided he really didn't want to unpack it, and then tipped his head. "All Aunt Beru could tell me of my mother was that she was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, and kind."

[My queen. My senator. Best human ever.] Artoo was so glad to be able to speak of her.

Anakin laughed for a moment at Artoo's emphatic commentary, and flashed a grin at Luke.

"Artoo's not got any opinions about your mom at all, if you couldn't tell," he said, bone-dry, and laughed again at the binary insult that got him. "But... he's not wrong. At _all_. And neither was your Aunt Beru. The first time I saw her, I asked if she was an angel. About a decade later, I met an Iegan, and found out they're not as beautiful as she i -- was." 

Luke reached out, pain for his father so thick in the Force signature. "I'm sorry, father," he said softly. "I… I'm really just making a new life for myself. So, we can lean on each other for that, right?"

Anakin took his hand with his left, curling his fingers around his son's hand. The Force _sang_ at him, family and connection and faith and hope, and for a long heartbeat, he reeled with it before he pulled himself under control. "Yeah," he agreed. "We can. And I'm glad you're here."

Artoo could keep him grounded, but he knew himself well enough to know he needed people to connect to, and there couldn't be a stronger connection for him than the one to this man and the twin sister he didn't, yet, know he had. 

Especially since Snips had never come for him. 

"You… wow. This is -- I -- " Luke took a deep breath as the Force feedback left him almost euphoric. "Is this normal? It didn't happen with Ben. Just a sense I knew him, under everything, that I couldn't place right away."

"I wouldn't call it 'normal', exactly," Anakin replied, "but... it's not... _ab_ normal, with family. And... you would have known him, as an infant. Artoo says he took you to them -- your aunt and uncle, I mean. You wouldn't have forgotten how he felt. You okay?" 

"Yeah, I just… never felt like that. Not even when I knew the shot was good at the Death Star, that my friends were safe." Luke squeezed the hand he had. "I've got so much to learn, father. Ben barely even started and he's gone... you can teach me, right? You had a student. So you can teach!"

Artoo helpfully showed a recording of Anakin and Ahsoka in kata stance, moving through Form V together.

"Thanks, Artoo," Anakin said, his voice affectionate and wry. "And -- I wasn't the best teacher, by a long shot. But yes. I can teach you. I will teach you, as best I can. You'll have a harder time of it, coming to learning so late... but it'll be okay. All it takes is will." 

"Good. Anything I can use, to keep my friends and the squadron safe… I need it," Luke said with a passionate belief that he could and would protect those he loved. "I suppose I should see about making you officially here, if Leia didn't already. Admiral Ackbar might do it for us, since he stopped in." Luke then flustered a little. "I'm so glad I get to have a chance to know you, Father. Ben spoke so warmly about you."

"Even if I didn't know you were my kid," Anakin said, his heart aching, "I think I'd know it from that. 'Admiral' Ackbar? Any relation to the Captain of the Mon Cal Royal Guard? Um... Gial, that was his name." 

Luke made a squeaking noise. "I think so? He mentioned knowing you." Captain? That boggled Luke's mind just from what he had heard so far about the man. "Since we lost so many veteran pilots at Yavin, and Scarif before I had even joined them, he's got the largest part of the Fleet now.

"I fly with Rogue Squadron. We took the name to honor the pilot who helped us know about and then defeat the Death Star. We're the X-Wing squadron, not that we have many of those yet, since we lost a lot in the battles leading up to Yavin and at Yavin itself."

[Interceptor-based project,] Artoo said. [Single-man, full socket for astromech, integrated hyperdrive, shielding, and life-support.]

"I guess he moved up in the world, then, because the only other Mon Cal I knew was a Jedi," Anakin said. Knight Eerin, he thought with a fresh twist of pain and grief, aware she had to be gone, too. She'd been good to him, a stranger in a completely unfamiliar environment, gentle and kind. Then what Artoo had said actually registered, and he stared down at Artoo. 

"You're serious. InComm _did_ it? They actually got a single-man, hyperdrive-capable long-distance fighter going? Holy..." He wanted to try one of those ships so badly that he almost ached with it. He knew that was his brain trying to protect him by distracting him into his favorite thing, but he'd roll with it. 

[Is a good ship!] Artoo said, with all of his own joy at the ship coming through in the trills.

"I need good pilots in my squad still," Luke said, before grinning. "I have a feeling you'd outfly me in a week. Which would totally suit me to give up Rogue Leader."

Artoo rolled over to him then. [Good squad leader. Teaching other pilots new tricks. They follow you.]

Anakin shrugged. "Don't want to supplant you, Luke. It sounds like you earned your spot -- and you've got the right heart. But I'll be happy to see what I can figure out, and what I can teach with a ship I've never touched before." 

"Alright." Luke stood up. "You think you're safe for walking over to the _Falcon_? We usually stay on her when we're on a ship that's not our homebase. My X-Wing and squad are half a parsec away with another part of the Fleet."

[Will probably go for that piece soon,] Artoo said. [Princess prefers to work with them.]

Anakin shrugged. "Not sure -- but I can give it a try. Artoo'll help keep me on my feet, if all else fails. Not like you've ever had to do that before, is it?" he asked, looking down at his astromech.

His astromech. Who was going to need to stay flying with Luke, if his son was still shiny. 

_Kriff_. 

[Can hold up, yes. Cannot fly you… until you build me new boosters?] Artoo asked, popping up the side panels.

"How many spots open on him?" Luke asked. "And boosters… wait, was that in your locked files too? Couldn't ask me for them?"

"What the heck happened to your boosters in the first place?!" Anakin demanded, relieved that Luke sounded surprised and worried. "And yeah, Artoo, new ones just went to the top of my priority list. Not having you without those. 

"How many spots?" Anakin repeated, and shrugged. "Not entirely sure. I've never counted. _A lot_." 

"Huh. Probably can scrounge parts on the _Falcon_ for some of what you need -- right, Chewie?" Luke added as they exited with Anakin leaning on Artoo.

[Will help, if we have parts, yes,] Chewie agreed.

[Captain of ship said did not need them.] Artoo made a rude noise. [Think he did not appreciate my use of empty lift tubes.]

Anakin laughed, shaking his head. "I'd say I taught you bad habits, but you already _had_ that one, Artoo. And thank you, Chewbacca. I appreciate it."

* * *

There was a learning curve. Between learning a new ship, learning who was whom, and generally trying to rein in all of the pain and fury he felt, Anakin was throwing himself into a plan to tear the Empire apart. 

The first bounty hunter that showed up trying to capture Luke, though, gave Anakin a better idea than just shaping up the military side of the Rebel Alliance. If he could overcome his clone, and maybe use the armor to get back to the Emperor… maybe that would give him what he needed in the form of victory.

"It won't work," Luke said stubbornly at the mere thought of it. "Vader has twenty years of experience you can't mimic. There will be codes. You can't just bluff your way back to Imperial City. And you can't take the Emperor on by yourself!"

Anakin glared at his son, his arms crossing in exasperation. "I'm not _that_ bad at mind-reading, _ad_ , and of course there'll be codes -- but again, I'm not the worst 'path out there. 

"It's not my best gift, but -- it's a chance to actually keep _doing_ something, not just running ahead of them!" 

Luke shook his head. "Father… I lost my aunt, my uncle, my teacher, and my best friend in my first week of being a Rebel. Don't… don't throw yourself away like this. We have no idea what the Emperor can do, but he holds Vader in check, and the entire galaxy fears that one!"

Anakin went still, looking at his son, the fright and the restrained panic in the ghost-eyes so much like his own... and the frustration went back out of him in a heartbeat. He reached out for his son, pulling him in against his side as he heaved a sigh. 

"I'm sorry, Luke," he said softly. "You're right. I -- always was too impatient, as everyone that ever knew me would tell you. I... suck at waiting. I won't, though."

"Thanks. I want to know you. I want to be there for you. I want to be strong enough to help you," Luke said. "Together… maybe we can twist the piece of Vader that is you into seeing the Emperor did this. The Emperor killed my mother, even if it wasn't directly at his hands. The Emperor enslaved your men… maybe there's enough of you in Vader to twist all that to help us."

"Maybe," Anakin agreed, and shifted to press his forehead against his son's. "Maybe you're right. Still requires him coming out where we can get to him, but. We'll have a better shot together." 

"Yeah. That? I'll help you with. And if we have to, we remove him. Then chip away at the Emperor's power base, taking on military targets," Luke said, rationally. "Until he has to do something about it. By then? I'll be strong enough to help you."

Anakin nodded, taking another slow, deep breath. "All right, Luke. Thank the _Force_ you got some of your mother's good sense instead of all my recklessness." 

"If you ever want to talk about her, I'm all ears, but I'm definitely not pushing," Luke told him seriously, before they turned to planning how to draw Vader out.

* * *

Hera smiled as Leia came close, catching her attention with a look. "That set of directions, the one from Fulcrum… Prime… that you had me verify? Did it lead to something you could use, Princess?"

Leia smirked a little, and nodded. "You can meet him in a couple of minutes at the briefing. Ackbar is affording him full military weight, even if he refused a direct command."

That left Hera very confused, until Commander Skywalker came in, side by side with a tall, darker-haired man, wearing dark colors, carrying a lightsaber at his hip, and a distinctive scar marking him out in her oldest memories. Hera could not stop staring, for a very long moment, even as the briefing settled into place, marking the feasibility of disrupting an Imperial shipyard.

"General Skywalker? Your thoughts?" Admiral Ackbar asked.

"It's feasible, but I'd suggest a slight modification, as they've set their defenses similar to a campaign I --" and he continued, but Hera was just digesting that this man, this phantom of her memories, was living and breathing and talking in front of her.

Stars and supernovae, but she had to figure out just where a certain captain had gone and gotten himself lost at!

* * *

If it had been anyone but Hera Syndulla calling him back to Command, Rex would have cheerfully told them to go kriff themselves. But it _was_ her, and he couldn't turn his back on one of Ahsoka's favorite, most trusted operatives. He'd seen his Commander too rarely, too little, in all the intervening years... but he knew what she'd thought of this one. 

So, cursing to himself the entire time, Rex had caught the next transport from Dameron's unit to the _Home One_ fleet, with Arseven grumblingly rolling beside him. "All right," he muttered to the droid, "where's Chopper?" 

Arseven queried, then made a disgruntled noise, before settling back. [Gone on mission. Directive to report to R2-D2 logged. Uncertain?] Arseven finally said after deciphering the Droid'Net notes for him, left by Chopper and countermarked by the other astromech.

"R2... D2?" Rex asked, confused, with an ache settling deep in his chest. It couldn't be the same Artoo, their Artooey. He was lost, wiped or destroyed in the same cataclysm that had been the end of most of his brothers and the -- 

He shook that thought away. He couldn't think about the nightmares Ahsoka had had, about what they suggested. He didn't believe it, and never would. "Well, all right, then. Lead on." 

Arseven guided him to what was obviously pilot country, where laughter could be heard, until… just before they cleared the bulkhead to see the open bay, all sound ceased.

"Father?" barely registered on Rex's senses as something impossible bloomed on his senses. While he had not complicated matters with his general, Rex had always known when Skywalker was near, and a vague sense of his mood.

It was impossible!

Anakin had been flicking a good dozen objects of various sizes at his blindfolded son, to the great amusement of the rest of Rogue Squadron -- and laughing himself when Luke swatted them directly back at him -- when something familiar slipped along his mind. He'd frozen, the objects all stilling, as he tried to place the feeling. 

it felt... no, that wasn't possible, but it felt like -- 

He turned in place, letting the objects settle to the deck, trying to see what was disturbing him. What felt so impossibly, perfectly familiar. 

Rex came around the edge of the bulkhead, his back up and his fingers itching for a blaster, just because this had to be a trick, had to be --

\-- anything but what he saw as he came into view of the open bay. Pilots working on gear, one up near an astromech that looked like Artoo, and a man in dark clothing, looking directly at him with a scar along one eye, and everything perfectly recognizable from a man twenty-odd years lost to Rex.

Anakin frowned, half-hearing Luke, distracted by the sensation, as two beings came around the bulkhead. One he thought he recognized as Ahsoka's droid, Arseven (with a few more scratches and dings, but still recognizably Arseven), but the other -- the other was an old man, no-one he knew... Except for the way the Force sang _known_ at him, sang faith and trust and devotion that only made sense when his eyes met a dark, honey-brown pair, blank with shock, that he would have known among a thousand others. Had known. 

The body was thick with age, hair gone, a thick white beard and mustache bafflingly present -- but impossibly, bafflingly, everything he was **knew** that that was his Captain, his Rex, his first in command. 

**Rex**. 

Staring at him in more shock, more confusion, than any of the Senators had shown, or the Captain-turned-Admiral -- but they'd had warning. 

He half-heard Luke call him again, but he was in motion, crossing the couple dozen meters in one sustained use of the Force, only pulling up just shy of Rex's usual 'personal space' bubble. 

No one else existed now, not so far as Rex's brain could process. All of his defensive techniques, things he'd learned to do to stay alive had failed entirely. 

Anakin Skywalker, not a single change from Mandalore save the clothing, was in front of him.

The connection, though, was too real to ignore. There was only one _jetii_ whose presence could ring more true in his mind, and she was lost to him.

"Sir?" was all he could say, as his eyes and brain warred over the spectre from his past in front of him.

Rex. Rex, here, Rex's voice thin and faint and strained, but Rex real and here. He _knew_ this was his Rex, and his left hand lifted, careful and gentle and slow, to rest against the thick, weirdly soft snow-white hair on his Captain's cheek, solidifying the connection. 

"Rex," he answered, hearing his own voice shake with the whisper too late to stop it. " _Vod_ , I -- " 

Rex heard the shake, and frowned. His general was never supposed to sound like that. He stepped forward, one hand up to his general's shoulder, but not stopping until he'd leaned in and Anakin knew what we meant, bringing their foreheads together, while Rex closed his eyes.

"Sir," he said more firmly, falling into the bond of a _jetii_ with their chosen _vod_. This was real; no one could imitate this! He had no idea how, but he knew, without doubt, Anakin Skywalker was right here.

Luke watched the reunion, then realized this was deeply personal and looked back at the squad in a particular way. Surprisingly, they all busied themselves in their gear, picking up his meaning without any need for words.

Anakin pushed into that hold, his right hand sliding behind Rex's back to tangle into the back of the tunic he wore, the forehead-to-forehead contact grounding him, letting him get his bearings again. Rex was here. 

Rex was alive. 

Even if everyone else was gone, his Captain, his right hand, his safety-so-often, was here. "Oh, Rex," he murmured, grounding himself in that solid, stable faith. "You're real, you're here -- yeah, yeah, I know, you've got to want to deck me for _me_ being the one saying that, sorry. It just --"

"You had to have thought you were alone, sir," Rex said softly. "Same as I've felt for a while now." He swallowed hard, took a deep breath. "I don't even care how, not right this moment. Just… don't march away now, sir, or leave me behind, you hear?" His hand tightened on Anakin's shoulder as he opened his eyes and pulled back enough to see the ghost eyes.

"I won't," Anakin promised him, his eyes opening to catch Rex's, as he nodded a little. "I promise, Rex, I won't. And... yes, kriff yes, I did, but that's not -- it's only been weeks, for me, not -- " 

A _vod_ should never, ever be alone, and his grip on Rex tightened and slid until he had him held hard against his body, doing his damnedest to swamp his brother in protection and defense and his presence. 

Rex leaned into him, moved his arms to hold on just as firmly around Anakin, and closed his eyes again. " _Ner jetii_." This? If this was actually dementia or dying, Rex would take it over the aloneness he'd had since Gregor's death and Wolffe slipping away from him. He was home, even if home was nothing but his general and a pair of droids in the middle of his mission to find a way to end the Emperor.

" _Gar'jetii_ ," Anakin answered him, " _ratiin_." The 'always' was easy to say, this time, because Rex, Luke, and Artoo (and Leia, the daughter it was still the wrong time to tell that to) were all he had. 

He wasn't sure how much longer it was before he managed to add, "Come sit down, Rex, and I'll tell you what I know about how I got here." 

"Looking forward to learning it all, sir," Rex said, breaking free only enough to manage walking to a spot to sit.

Somehow, some way, they were going to beat the Empire. He had his general back, and his general never gave up.

+++

Luke settled into the ready room he and his friends, and his father, often used to spend their downtime. He looked over at Artoo, still trading high-speed data with the strange astromech that had come with the old man. The pair looked very happy, and then Luke's attention came to the door, as his father and the man came in. 

Luke would have loved to actually meet the man earlier, but of course Command had reached out to him to come give an opinion at the worst moment. Maybe now he'd get the chance?

"Hi," he said, with a small smile for the companionable closeness between the two men.

Anakin smiled at his son -- he'd told Rex, of course, but there was telling, and then there was actually meeting Luke. He saw so much of his mother, Shmi, in Luke, more than he saw himself or Padmé, which... wasn't a bad thing, at all. He couldn't have asked for better. "Rex," he said, "I'd like to introduce you to my son, Luke Skywalker. Luke, this's the Captain in all those stories you've been getting out of Artoo." 

Okay, yes, his General had said the Senator had been pregnant when the damned replacement happened (and oh, but that was a thousand kinds of relief), and that had been twenty years ago, but... His General's _ad_ was a man grown, by the shadows in those ghost eyes. 

"Hello, sir," he answered, "a pleasure to meet you." 

"It's good to have a person to go with those stories, and even if they were exaggerated a little, I feel like I should offer you sympathy," Luke said, taking a playful tone. "Given what Father's put me through since we got him."

Rex had to snort, not least because Artoo made a rude noise at the idea of his stories not being faithfully true, before he reached out to shake across the table Luke was sitting at. He didn't know the man enough to greet him like a _vod_ , but figured it wouldn't take long before that was a thing.

"Someone had to have his back covered."

"Hey," Anakin mock-protested, as much at Rex as his son, but he couldn't even make the single word sound sincere, and he gave it up as a bad job as dark eyes and blue turned to him in patent disbelief. "...okay, okay. But you shouldn't go insulting Artoo like that, Luke!" 

Luke looked at his father. "Ask him to tell you about the Battle at Yavin, and then look at the actual logs or ask Wedge -- no, on second thought, don't ask Wedge." He shook his head with amusement at his right hand among the Rogues.

Rex sat down opposite Luke, looking at him. "I don't have to. I heard his version of one of the fights I was in, and it was… inspirational, if a little left of truth. It's part of him being a political droid once upon a time, I'm told. Tell the facts in a way to benefit your faction."

Anakin had to shrug half-agreement at that -- Artoo was definitely good at that, sometimes -- as he nodded. "I asked your friend Captain Solo, actually," he said, "since Artoo's story cut out with one of his moments of trying to convince me he can use the Force." 

Rex looked at his general, perfectly seriously. "He can, sir, and I will one-on-one you if you ever disparage that ability again."

Luke had to swallow a surprised sound, as that meaning bled through easily enough. "Han didn't show up until it was almost over," Luke said, not too sure Han would have been any more impartial.

"Point taken, Rex," Anakin replied, shaking his head wryly, and looked at Luke for a moment. "If you think Solo wasn't watching for where best to interfere, _ad_ , you don't know your friend as well as you think." 

Luke nodded, looking down sheepishly and with not a little more emotion than maybe he should show about Han's heroics in front of an almost-stranger. "I know. Chewie said so."

"Still can't believe you fell in with the very same Wookiee that rescued the Commander," Rex told Anakin, looking at him to give Luke a moment to get his crush under control.

"He was pretty startled, too," Anakin replied, "but it was at least a little comfort for me, too. Especially just waking up." No Wookiee would have worked with the Separatists, which Rex knew perfectly well. 

"Good man, from all I heard of that misadventure," Rex agreed. He missed her, missed the fiery spirit she had been then, and the more mature tactician of later. But -- she'd gone where he could not follow, and now he kept her alive by living in Rebellion. And she'd expect him to take care of Anakin Skywalker, even if that wasn't his only driving goal right now.

"Chewie's the best, even if Han is still giving him grief about hiding how much he knew about the war," Luke said, no longer blushing around his ears. "Chewie's quick to point out that no one talks about their past in the Alliance, or in piracy, so why should he have said anything."

Anakin chuckled quietly. "Your friend is a brave one -- not many have the guts to give a Wookiee grief about anything. What had Command wanted, by the way? I _did_ notice when you left." 

Luke settled in to tell him, secure in the added weight of an old friend to keep his father from rushing off.

Somehow they'd find the hole to blow up in the Empire's command structure, and then --

\-- then they would make Hope live again.


End file.
